


White Wedding

by AllRose



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8604409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllRose/pseuds/AllRose
Summary: Vignettes of Luke and Lorelai's wedding. "What's going on? I can't remember anything. Why am I wearing a pink feather boa?" Lots of Literati, obviously a little Java Junkie. [Completed. Originally published on ffnet 2011-2015]





	1. i

_i_

The Dragonfly Inn was looking its best. Each of the rooms were bedecked with flowers, most of them wild, all of them beautiful. The carpets were cleaned, the hardwood was polished, and the horses were shining. If one were to hypothetically sing a Jessica Rabbit-esque ballad while draping themselves across the grand piano, they were sure to slide off, such was the amount of varnish slicked over the top. A long-fingered pianist perched on the adjoining piano stool, creating little tinkling sounds that made everyone feel wealthier. The silverware was doing the work of ten laser pointers, and the glassware could be set into gold rings and sold as diamonds. In the foyer, guests were beginning to mingle. Those guests who were accustomed to functions with tinkly music were sipping on wine and making polite chit-chat. Those who were less used to such restraint were begging the pianist to play some show tunes, won't you gorgeous, and boisterously discussing how inevitable this evening was, regardless of what they might have said this time two years ago.

By the stairs, set apart from the crowd, stood the bride-to-be. She was looking both lost and worried. Clasping her hands together, she sighed sadly. "This is a disaster!"

"I don't think it's officially deemed a disaster until Kirk starts stripping."

She closed her eyes briefly, as if trying to remove the source of irritation by sheer power of thought. "Shut up, Jess."

"Now is that a nice way to talk to your only nephew-to-be?" he smirked, and took a sip of his beer.

Lorelai shuddered slightly. "Don't depress me more."

"I really don't see why you're so unhappy. You're getting married tomorrow; nobody has yet to stab someone at your rehearsal dinner, unlike Liz's second marriage; and everywhere I go people are yakking about how flushed with happiness you look. And you look like you've reached your wedding dress weight goal."

He gave her a look-over as she shot him an affronted look and crossed her arms over her stomach.

"I think that's the most you've ever said at once," she muttered. "How long ago did you get here?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Did you talk to Luke?"

"Yes."

"And your mother?"

"Yep."

"What about my mother?"

"She asked me if my shirt was from Barney's, if that counts. I don't think she remembers me."

"You'd be dead by now. So there's no-one else you could go bother?"

"Not without causing a real disaster."

Lorelai shot him a satisfied look. "Rory's not here yet."

"I was talking about starting an argument between Jackson and TJ over the merits of buying organic vegetables at local Ren Faires versus growing your own. It'll be like the bachelor party all over again."

Lorelai wrinkled her nose. "I almost believe you. Luke wouldn't tell me anything."

"As God is my witness," Jess vowed. "Jackson won, but it was a hollow victory. Luke, your father and I drank scotch until Luke threw up, and then Richard pulled out the cigars and classic records. Very _Casablanca_. I'm surprised Luke is up and walking today."

"He foolishly declined to drink this morning," she shook her head in disappointment at said man, making awkward conversation with Miss Patty, who was doing a lot of winking and nudging.

"I heard you had a stripper?" Jess prompted.

"Hugh Jwan," Lorelai grinned wickedly. "He's over there."

He followed her gaze across the room to a blond, orange-skinned man wearing a suit and bowtie with no shirt underneath. His skin was weirdly shiny, like he had slicked baby oil over his face and chest, and his teeth could be seen from across the room.

"He's actually very wise," Lorelai said. She grinned wickedly. "Rory's doing an interview on him. Plus, it's driving my mother insane. It's the only real revenge I have on her for this." She spread her arms out and swept them around.

"For what?"

"For this _disaster_ of a rehearsal dinner _._ She's completely taken it over!"

Jess looked around skeptically. "She has?"

"Hello! Everything screams 'Emily Gilmore.'"

"Maybe you're just turning into your mother," he said innocently, and took a cheeky gulp of his beer.

Lorelai was rendered momentarily speechless. "That's a horrible thing to say, you little punk!"

"Harsh words," Jess smirked. "Well, what heinous crimes has she committed?"

"The piano dude!" Lorelai pointed. "The champagne! The…" She floundered for a moment, before picking herself up. "The whole hoity-toity atmosphere."

"The bitch!" Jess said with mock disgust. "Paying for hundred-year old wine and music."

"Stop mocking me," Lorelai grumbled. "You wouldn't understand."

"It's true; my parents are my role models."

She looked sideways at him. "Did you sneak that beer in here?"

Jess smiled magnanimously. "I have my ways."

"Did you talk to my mother with a bottle of Bavaria in your hand?"

"Yes."

"And she didn't notice?"

"It's my sparkling personality."

"Or your designer shirt."

He looked down at the plain white shirt, one button open at the collar. "This cost me ten bucks for two at Costco."

Lorelai tried really hard not to smile, but the corners of her lips twitched a little. She always preferred people who shopped in bulk, browsed in thrift stores and made their own clothes.

She looked around the room and sighed sadly. "Can I have some of your beer?"

"Oh quit pouting," Jess snapped. "If you hate your party so much then change it. Change the music or the food or whatever. I know everything was your doing. And the beer is in the refrigerator in the kitchen."

"Is it too late to fire the pianist?"

"If it is you can at least try and remove the stick from his ass."

"Look at Babette," Lorelai said wistfully. "She's chomping at the bit."

Suddenly, she spun on her heel and shot Jess a suspicious look. "Wait a minute. Why are you giving me advice? You hate show tunes."

"Everyone hates show tunes, "Jess argued. "Especially when Patty pulls out her inner Shirley Bassey. It's six of one and half a dozen of the other, really, but at least if everyone loosens up I can stop making small talk and get drunk."

She examined his face for several minutes, while he stared blandly back and sipped the end of his beer. Finally, she clasped her hands together. "How much will it cost to scare the piano dude away despite the inevitable offers of large sums of money from my parents to get him to finish the night?"

Jess rolled up his sleeves. "Consider it a wedding present."


	2. ii-iv

_ii_

When Rory came to, she had absolutely no idea where she was. She could hear birds singing outside. Someone had left a window open, and there was a cool breeze blowing across the back of her neck. It felt nice as her whole body felt hot and sticky. Every muscle in her body hurt, especially her right knee, and she had no idea why. Her head was pounding as if a few of those little cartoon woodpeckers were perched on her temples. Her mouth tasted like dirt.

Two and two finally added up in her withered brain and she was already moaning, "Oh, no!" as she jumped to her feet. "Oh, no, no, no," she groaned, and stumbled around in a circle. Blearily, she wiped the dirt from her mouth and looked around her.

A lumpy blanket on the ground shifted and began moaning. Rory jerked it off and stumbled on to the ground. "Mom?"

"I'm dead," The Lorelai-shaped lump moaned. "Dead!"

"Why are we outside?" Rory cried.

"Outside?" Lorelai's basic English comprehension seemed to be lacking today.

"Yes, outside. Birds, grass, Julie Andrews twirling around in circles, and Wilson from _Home Improvement_ peering over the fence. Grab a shovel, hi ho."

Lorelai pulled her head up as high as she could and regarded her daughter with half-closed eyes. She looked up and glanced at the sky. "Oh, you meant _outside,_ " she said, and pulled the blanket back over her head.

"Mom!" Rory pulled herself on to her feet again and winced at the sound of her own voice. "What's going on? I can't remember anything. Why am I wearing a pink feather boa?"

"Party," said the blanket. "Wedding. Last night."

"Wedding Party?"

"Ba…batch," Lorelai attempted, and then gave up. She stuck out hand from under the blanket. "Tequila?"

Rory, on the other hand, was finally starting to catch up. "Your bachelorette party was last night? Oh, I remember now! We went to that strip club in Woodbridge. I befriended a very nice stripper. But how did we end up outside?"

"Tequila!"

"I think it was starry. Were we having a picnic?"

Lorelai pulled herself onto her elbows and lifted her head until it was peeking out of the blanket. There were twigs in her hair, and dirt on her forehead. Several strands of hair framing in her face were stuck to her mouth. "Honey, Mommy needs some Jose before she can do the word thing."

"There's a bottle of something beside you," Rory motioned with her hand.

She watched as her mother took a swig and gagged. "Ugh. Burny." She handed it to Rory. "Drink. Cure."

Rory regarded the bottle warily and took a tentative sip. She gagged and spat it out as her mother laughed stupidly at her. "Lightweight!" Lorelai admonished, and took the bottle back.

"Seriously, though," Rory asked when Lorelai had her fill. "How did we get outside?"

"For shame, daughter. You really are a terrible drinker. You wouldn't let us go inside because Luke and Jess were in there."

Rory frowned. "Why would that be a problem? Luke lives here; Jess is taking the couch…"

"I can't quote you exactly. But you did mention jumping Jess' bones if not held back, which we will have a talk about later, by the way, but for now I need coffee."

"I didn't say that!" Rory squeaked. "No way did I say that."

"It doesn't matter, it's not like he heard you." Lorelai heaved herself to her feet. "Unless he's been there since last night." She pointed to the porch, where Jess was sitting reading a book and drinking coffee.

Rory sighed sadly. "I want coffee."

"JESS!" Lorelai shouted hoarsely and so abruptly that Jess spilled coffee on his lap. The force of her shout knocked her off her feet a little, and she stumbled a little.

"What the hell is your malfunction?" Jess shouted.

"We need coffee!"

Jess stared at her, speechless. He looked at Rory, then at Lorelai, then back to Rory. Finally he closed his mouth, held up his hands and retreated into the house. By the time he returned, the girls had made it to the rocking bench on the verandah. The rocking motion seemed to be making them feel a lot worse. Jess handed them their coffees and returned to his book. The girls sipped in silence, their ability to chatter needing a little recovery time. The length of time was the lifetime of a cup of coffee. Lorelai excused herself, and stumbled up to bed. Rory stayed behind, rocking herself into a daze as Jess immersed himself in _Dharma Burns_.

"Good night?" Jess asked nonchalantly, not looking up from his book.

"Mmmm," Rory smiled lazily. "Did you put the blankets on us?"

"I only came out here about an hour ago. Luke left for work about five, it must have been him." He turned a page, mouth twitching into something approaching a smile for him. "Why did you decide to camp out, anyway?"

"Door seemed far away," Rory shrugged. "Everything's a little fuzzy, to be honest. Thank God it was warm out."

Jess nodded. "I was just wondering if this is a pastime of yours. Getting up close with nature." He was teasing her, Rory knew, but she didn't mind.

"I learned from the best," she said proudly.

"Oh yeah, and who's that?"

"Jackson. He sleeps with his vegetables when there's a cold front coming in."

Jess rolled his eyes. "This is what I have to look forward to tonight- conversations about cauliflower."

Rory giggled. "You still have it all ahead of you. Are you excited?"

"It can't be worse than TJ's bachelor party."

"Is Luke excited?"

"Oh he's just chipper," Jess deadpanned. "He's picking up the neon body paint and glo-sticks as we speak."

"Oh God, get that image out of my head!" She slapped her forehead and giggled.

Jess closed his book with a snap and smiled a little. His eyes crinkled a little in the corners. His hair looked less black and more of a dark red under the morning sun. "You have plans for the day?"

"Fiftieth dress fitting with Grandma, so that'll take up most of the day. She'll probably insist we have dinner with them afterwards." She tried and failed to stifle a yawn with her feather boa. "Not so fun with a hangover. What about you?"

He looked around and shrugged. "This."

"I'm jealous. Are you giving a best man speech?"

"Nope. That was part of the deal."

"Lucky you, I have to write my speech yet."

"I'm sure it will be great."

"Thanks." Rory's voice was becoming thick with sleep. Within a minute she was curled up, head resting on the arm of the rocking couch. Jess watched her for longer than he cared to admit, and then went back to his book. The sounds of the creaking of the chair rocking back and forth soothed him into dozing for an hour.

It was the first extended conversation they had in years that hadn't ended in shouting.

 

_iii_

 

 

"This is the worst, and I mean the _worst_ Engagement Party of all time!"

"It's not that bad!"

"Are you kidding me? Neither of our kids are here, my mother is drunk, and it's raining."

A beat. A glance around.

"Okay, yes. You're right. It's awful."

"Do you think anyone would notice if we sneak off?"

A soft brush of fingers. A giddy smile. Two giddy smiles.

"Who the hell cares?"

 

_iv_

 

 

"Well, basically, there are certain traditions, you know? White dress, priest, rings, bad food, bad band, bad mother-of-the-bride hats..."

"Yes..."

"And, while most of them mean nothing to me and everything to Emily Gilmore, I do find myself with the choice of TJ or Jackson as my best man."

"The eternal question: vegetables or tights?"

"Don't be smart. I'm asking you to be my best man, here."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"TJ will steal my deodorant again."

"Plant a dummy."

"Jackson wants to put up gourds instead of flowers. Gourds, Jess!"

"Very festive."

"Jess, please."

Silence.

"I'm not wearing tails."

"Deal."

"And I'm not making a speech."

"I'd be terrified to hear what you have to say, anyway."

"Absolutely no dancing."

"Even with the maid of honour?"

"Luke!"

"Sorry, sorry."

A quiet moment of balancing out the pros and cons.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

A quick exhalation of relief.

"Thanks Jess, really."

"Don't mention it."


	3. v-vii

_v_

 

Emily stroked a roll of luxuriant fabric to her left. "I started planning my wedding when I was eight years old, and I got to have two in the end," she smiled happily.

"Oh yeah, me too," Liz laughed. "I got to have a lot more than two. But, at least one was a keeper."

"How many times did you get married, anyway?" Lorelai asked her.

"Three. Well, four depending on how you count it."

Everyone in the group shared a look at that statement, and wisely decided not to pursue it.

"What about you, Rory? What does your dream wedding look like?" Emily asked her. "Mine absolutely had to have at least four strings, two French horns, and a flautist, as well as a giant ice sculpture shaped like the Eiffel Tower. I always dreamed about living in Paris. I would rework my mother's wedding dress into something a little more modern, and men with coats with tails would chauffer people in little stage coaches."

Rory shrugged awkwardly. "I never really imagined it."

"That's right." Richard puffed up proudly. "Our Rory was probably dreaming about winning the Nobel Prize, and not a silly wedding." He caught the glares of every woman around him. "And that's my cue to take leave of you, ladies. Emily, shall I meet you at the usual spot at three?"

"Yes, enjoy looking at identical golf clubs."

He assured her that he would, and left. The women resumed their shopping. Every few steps, someone would pick up a fabric and present it to Lorelai, who would invariably refuse it. Pinks, yellows, greens, creams, ivories- all were discarded with mounting frustration.

"You know, Mom," Rory said finally, "you don't have to make our bridesmaids' dresses. We can buy something."

"Absolutely not." Lorelai was stern. "You and Sookie will get a _Lorelai Gilmore Original_ , and you shall go to the ball!"

"We at least need to decide on a basic colour palette."

Lorelai narrowed her eyes. "Is this your way of pressuring me into choosing my colours?"

"No," Rory sighed. "Though, you do need to decide soon. But you need to have an _idea_. Otherwise these might end up clashing if you decide to have, for example, a black and white wedding."

Lorelai crinkled her nose. "No thanks. Too Tim Burton for me."

"Rory's right, Lorelai," Emily informed her. "You need to make a decision and stick to it. I always thought an icy blue would look fabulous with Rory's eyes."

"I'm looking for inspiration. One of these fabrics will just be _it_."

"Lorelai, one does not design one's wedding around a bridesmaid's dress. You choose your dress based on your wedding theme." Emily sighed as if she were attempting to teach etiquette to a squirrel.

"Let's just keep an open mind," Lorelai suggested stubbornly.

"What about this?" Rory called from several button stands away, and held up a gold shimmery material.

"No," Lorelai said immediately. "What if I want silver on the table centrepieces?"

"Do you want silver?" Emily asked her.

"No, I hate silver."

Emily clenched her hands into fists and worked her jaw furiously as she held back everything she wanted to say.

"You know, Lorelai, I know you said you don't want a themed wedding like I had with TJ, but I gotta tell you, they make everything a lot easier," Liz shouted from behind a rack of ribbons. "These little details just kind of sort themselves out."

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but she has a point," Emily said. "You're running out of time."

"Liz planned her wedding in a week!"

"Yeah, and that was the longest time I had to plan out of the three," Liz came up behind them, wearing a pink straw hat and carrying a pile of swatches in both arms. "I married Jimmy on the Staten Island Ferry when I was seven months pregnant."

"That could be romantic," Lorelai said, trying to be positive.

"It wasn't. We only did it because we were getting high with a minister on Staten Island and he stayed with us in Brooklyn. There was a storm, and everyone was throwing up around us. Probably an omen. It could also be the reason Jess gets so seasick."

"So that's boats off the list," Emily cut in. "But we need some kind of connecting theme, Lorelai. Won't you consider the sleighs and fur muffs?"

"I'd like to keep the muffs to a minimum, Mom. Plus, Luke and I don't want anything fancy. Something small and tasteful."

"I know!" Emily said suddenly. "Paris in the '20s!"

Lorelai stared at her. "No!"

"What about La Belle Époque?"

"No, what is wrong with you? Rory will be Zelda Fitzgerald, Luke will dress as Dali and the rest of us will wear can-can dresses?"

"One era or the other, not both together. That would be ridiculous."

"Mom, no part of the Moulin Rouge was small or tasteful!" She turned around and started combing through Liz's swatches, huffily. "Anyway, no way would Luke agree to that, and we won't have a best man if there are coat tails involved, I can tell you that."

"I don't know about that, Mom," Rory said as she reappeared covered in glitter and sneezing. "Jackson wore that get-up for the Bracebridge Dinner; he'd probably consent to tails."

"Yes, but Jackson isn't the best man, Jess is," Lorelai said distractedly. "And I'm fairly certain I can't get Jess into tails."

"It'd cut him off at the knees," Liz agreed. "He's too short to pull it off."

"He can be Toulouse-Lautrec!" Emily clapped her hands together delightedly.

"Jess is your best man? Jess?" Rory asked, looking distinctly shocked.

"Yeah, I told you that. Didn't I?" Lorelai looked up at her daughter and caught her expression. "I didn't. Ok, I'm sorry. Luke asked Jess to be his best man. I assumed it wouldn't be a problem."

"Why would it be a problem?" Rory smiled, a little forcefully. "After all, he is my future cousin, or something." Her expression changed into one of mild disgust.

"Oh, and he'll be staying at our place."

"Why not Luke's?"

"Because Luke wants him to stay at ours and in relationships you have to make compromises," Lorelai monotoned.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Emily pondered.

Lorelai and Rory exchanged panicked looks.

"He's Liz's son, Mom. You must have heard her talking about him," Lorelai said quickly.

"Oh, really? How nice. And what does he do?" she addressed Liz.

"He's a writer, and a publisher," Liz gushed.

"Well, that's fantastic. What age is he?"

"Twenty-four."

"It's very impressive to see someone so young with so much ambition."

"Well, it's small-scale, but I'm very proud of him. He reminds me so much of my dad."

"I look forward to meeting him. I'm sure Richard and he will have a lot to talk about. You never know, Rory, if this magazine job doesn't work out, you could work with this Jess."

Lorelai grabbed Rory's arm in shock, as they both gaped at Emily. Rory recovered first. "M-maybe, Grandma."

"If you are stuck, I'm sure he'd be glad to help," Liz said kindly.

"I'm not stuck," Rory protested with no conviction at all. "I'm just a little frustrated."

"Of course you are, it's an abominable situation! The former editor of the _Yale Daily News_ writing about committee meetings and socialite engagements- it's a travesty!" Emily complained as if the society column wasn't her reason for living.

"It's just a stepping stone, Grandma. Times are hard; newspapers are shutting down all over the country. I'm happy to have a job at all."

Emily looked ready to argue further, but she happened to look down at Lorelai sitting on the floor among her swatches. She was holding one in her hand and staring at it like it held the secret to eternal life. "What's wrong with you?" Emily snapped.

"This is nice," Lorelai breathed. The swatch was a bright fuchsia, flowy but not too light for winter.

"I'm seeing orchids," Emily announced.

"Yeah," Lorelai said quietly.

The three women above her glanced at each other and with one sudden movement, hauled Lorelai to her feet and ushered her quickly over to the cash register.

 

_v_ _i_

 

 

"You know we could run now, if we have to. Go on another road trip, not to _The Chesire Cat Inn_ again because I'm sure that the exorcists have taken care of that evil, evil monstrosity but we could go somewhere else. Guam, maybe? I know you've always wanted to go to Guam, and not just to find out what their stance is on guacamole. Or Paris again, maybe? Or somewhere we've never been before, like…Iceland. We can just get in a car and go, if that's what you want, Mom. As long as you're happy."

"Honey. Rory, Rory stop."

"Well?"

A beam. "I'm getting married today."

Two beams. "You're sure?"

A nod.

"You look beautiful."

"Thanks. I'm really happy, hun."

"Thank God, because I can't drive in these heels."

 

_vii_

 

 

"What time is Rory coming at?"

"She's not sure. Her flight comes in a little after five, and then my parents are picking her up and they're all coming here." Lorelai sat down on the couch. "What time is Anna bringing over April?"

Luke sat down beside her and handed her a cup of coffee. She took it gratefully and wrapped her hands around the sides. "Turns out April has some exhibition she really wants to see and it ends tomorrow so Anna's going to drop her over tomorrow night."

Lorelai's house was the dead centre of the storm. The whole room was covered in papers, fabrics, flowers and swatches. Lorelai gripped her mug tighter.

"And when is, uh-" The words seemed to stick in her throat.

"Jess will be here, and this is a direct quote, 'some time later.'"

Lorelai exhaled heavily. "We'll have to make a hole in the debris for him to sleep."

"I'll sort it out. Something on your mind?"

"Rory's face when I told her Jess was best man," Lorelai sighed. "I shouldn't have told her in front of my mother and her mother, but with everything that's been going on I completely lost track. Plus, you know, it's Jess, and whenever the two of them are near each other something goes _kapoosh_." She spread out her fingers to mimic an explosion.

"They're both adults," Luke tried to reassure her. "They'll find their way eventually."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Lorelai said glumly.

"Hey," Luke said sternly. "You said you were going to try with Jess. He's a lot better now, believe me. He's still a wiseass, but he's doing a lot better."

"I know," Lorelai put her head in her hands. "I will. I'll try."

Luke put a gentle hand to her temple. "What else is bothering you?"

"Everything," came Lorelai's muffled response. "This whole wedding is getting out of hand. I feel like I'm losing control of everything."

"Screw that," Luke said quietly. "We're getting married in a week. I don't care about a damn thing in this world other than that."

Lorelai raised her head from her palms and smiled tiredly. "Thanks for the perspective." She leaned over and kissed him softly. Luke stood up and took her hand.

"Come on, you need a nap."

"It's not even lunchtime. I have to call the florists, and the bands and the-"

"Sookie can do that. In fact, I know I heard her offer several times."

"Maybe," Lorelai considered.

"Come on,"

"Well…" Lorelai conceded.

"Come on, you're exhausted," he pulled her off her feet and upstairs.

She slept all afternoon, and Jess spent his first night sleeping on a couch covered in plastic flowers and sparkly ribbons that kept him brushing glitter off himself for days.


	4. viii-x

_viii_

 

"You know what the best thing about getting married is? Strippers! Maybe if I had done this with Max instead of the Drag Club, we would have gotten married."

"I doubt it was the queens, Mom, but that Liza did bring a bit of milkshake to her yard. Or his. I never know the politically correct term."

The two girls were in the corner of the club, tipsy and bordering on smashed. A fine specimen of a young boy was demonstrating how astronauts passed their time up in space on the podium through the medium of dance, and below him a herd of married women, Liz and Babette in the forefront, were entreating him to demonstrate further. Lorelai and Rory had excused themselves from the action and were spending some quality time sloshing their drinks all over each other and giggling.

"What time is it?" Lorelai asked, looking around her. "Oops," she laughed, and tried to mop up her daughter's lap.

"It's party time!" Rory shrieked.

"I think they're closing. Are they closing?" As if on cue, all the lights came on at once, and the two women shut their eyes against the brightness amid disappointed protests from the others.

"Come on, he was just getting started!" Miss Patty complained.

"I thought strip clubs stayed open all night," Rory pouted.

"That's probably just men strip clubs. Or ones not in Woodbridge."

"Stupid Woodbridge," Rory sighed. She looked at her watch. "Oh, it's four a.m. Nowhere will be open anymore!"

"You know what we should do?" Lorelai said conspiratorially. Rory leaned in closer. "Have a party at our house."

"We can't!" Rory said frantically, for Lorelai had stood up to make the announcement.

"Why not?" Lorelai splashed red wine on her shoes and guffawed.

"There are _boys_ at our house," Rory hissed.

"Ugh, boys. Spoiling our fun." She brightened up suddenly. "Luke is getting up in an hour! For deliveries. I bet Jess will party with us. He probably likes parties," she said knowledgably.

"And if not?"

"He can sleep through it."

"His bed is the couch."

"Oh! Big glowy light bulb! He can sleep in your bed, because you will be doing shots with Mommy in the living room."

Rory looked horrified. "I can't have Jess in my bed!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's _Jess_."

Lorelai grinned wickedly. "Are you afraid you won't be able to control yourself, Rooory?"

"Kind of!" Rory flung her arms out in front of her and dropped her wine glass. She put her head in her hands. "I don't feel so good."

"Who's having sex with my kid?" Liz arrived behind Rory and helped Lorelai pull her to her feet.

"Nobody is, but somebody wants to," Lorelai sang. Rory's head lolled on her mother's shoulder, and together they stumbled out of the club and into a cab.

"Do not!" Rory argued belatedly.

"Shush, honey. You've already given yourself away. Plus, Liz doesn't care if we talk about you having sexual healing with her son, do you?"

"As long as I don't have to see it, I don't give a crap," Liz said. Lorelai, who had begun her own sexy-times dance, stopped suddenly.

"Why would they do it in front of you?" she asked with an expression of pure disgust.

"Oh, come on, Lor," Liz laughed. "Don't tell me you've never walked in on your kid doing it!"

"I caught Rory and Logan at my parents vows renewal," she conceded.

"I'm gonna get sick," Rory mumbled. The cab driver gave her a worried look, but seemed satisfied he could get another mile without her spraying his upholstery.

"I walked in on Jess when he was sixteen, with the girl who lived down the hall." Liz started laughing. "I'll never forget his skinny butt in the air."

Lorelai clapped her hands over her mouth and laughed along with Liz. When they had calmed down, she asked her, "What did you do?"

"I sent him here!" Liz burst out, and the two started cackling again.

A few minutes later the cab stopped at Liz's house. "This is me!" she laughed. "But before I go, I want to say thanks for tonight. It was amazing. And I want to say how happy I am to have you as my new sister."

"Oh, Liz," Lorelai sighed, getting drunk-teary.

"I mean it," Liz cried. "I never thought he'd find someone, and here you are, and of course, my new niece here-" she patted Rory's shoulder, who seemed to be coming out of her coma a little. "Who wants to sleep with my son, but that's cool, as long as they don't have kids because then I don't know if I'd be a grandmother or a great aunt." With that pronouncement, she exited the car and tottered up to her door.

Lorelai watched her go. "Man, can that girl hold her liquor."

The car sped off again and let the girls out at their own house.

"My house, my love!" Lorelai stumbled over the lawn. "My castle, my casa. Hey Kid, what's wrong with you?"

Rory had stopped in her tracks. "I can't go in there." She looked frantically at her mother. "You're right, I can't control myself. I might not even get past the couch."

"So what? You're going to sleep on the lawn?"

Rory sat down. "No, I just need to sober up. Cool down."

"Ha! Are you hot and heavy?"

"Sit down, Mom," Rory glared.

"Ooh, serious face." She sat down cross-legged and looked wistfully at her nice, comfortable house while Rory sat in deep thought.

"I don't get it," Lorelai sighed. "Why Jess?"

"He's Jess," Rory shrugged. "Don't you feel like that with Luke?"

"I love Luke because he's kind and dependable and he gets me, and takes care of me, and loves me."

"Well, Jess is smart and funny and he smells nice and is a really good kisser and I-"

"Love him?"

Rory lay back on the grass. "I could do. I used to love him, once. He's doing so well now. I mean, he's a published author. He got me to go back to Yale. I'm single, why shouldn't I give it another go?"

"Maybe he doesn't want that," Lorelai said bluntly, and lay down beside her. "Plus, he hurt you so much."

"I don't care," Rory said slowly and softly.

"I do," Lorelai grumbled. "Did you just say he got you to go back to Yale?"

She received no reply. Glancing over, she saw that her daughter was asleep. "That's convenient," she said to the unconscious girl, and tried to fall asleep herself.

 

_ix_

 

 

"Okay Lorelai, we're both here. What is your big announcement?"

"Is Rory here yet? I thought I heard a car."

"Rory is running late, she phoned early and said she'd try to make the first course."

Lorelai looked horrified. "What? I have to wait for Rory, then."

"Lorelai, please." Emily looked at her watch. "I need to check on dinner."

Lorelai looked a little deflated. "Sure. Okay, never mind. It can wait."

"Are you very sure?" Richard asked. "I don't want you grumbling later about how we wouldn't listen. We are all ears."

"I'm sure, dad," Lorelai said glumly.

Emily returned. "Dinner's ready," she announced. "Let's hurry up before Hildegard goes crazy with the seasoning again."

"She does use a heavy hand," Richard chuckled, and pulled out a chair for Lorelai to sit in.

Hildegard ladled out the peppery soup and they began to eat, Lorelai looking nervously around her.

"So Lorelai, how is Luke?" Emily asked her.

"He's fine, Mom."

"The two of you are still together?"

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom, like the last time you asked."

"I just like to keep track," Emily said blithely.

"I've been thinking," Richard began, and Lorelai got that tingly feeling in her spine that foreshadowed bad things. "We really don't know any of Luke's family. His parents are dead; I know that, but what about siblings?"

Lorelai struggled through a massive spoonful of peppery soup and sneezed violently. "He has a sister, Liz. And a daughter, April."

"Well, we've heard enough about April," Emily grumbled.

"Liz has a little girl, Doula," Lorelai said loudly. "Her husband's name is TJ. I can't imagine two people you would hate more."

"Oh, now really, Lorelai," Richard took offence. "We must meet them. You'll set it up for some night they are available. We can have it here."

"No children, though," Emily said distastefully.

"TJ is a carpenter," Lorelai panicked. "Liz makes jewellery. They travel the Eastern Seaboard selling their wares in Renaissance fairs."

"What fun!" enthused Emily.

"Since when do you like crafts and fairs?" Lorelai asked.

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Rory's appearance.

"Am I too late?" she rushed into the room. "Did you tell them?"

"Of course not," Lorelai laughed, standing up to hug her daughter.

"Rory, give your coat to Hildegard," Emily instructed tiredly. "And Lorelai, make your announcement. This soup is done for, anyway."

"Well," Lorelai began excitedly, and grabbed Rory's forearm. "Luke and I are getting married!"

Silence.

"You've been sitting on that all night, and you didn't tell us until now? What is wrong with you?"

Lorelai sat down tiredly.

 

_x_

 

 

"I don't think she's much of a reader."

Liz and Jess look down at the toddler chewing on the book in her sticky hands.

"She loves it," Liz says firmly.

Jess obviously doesn't believe her, but he shrugs it off.

Liz puts her hand on his shoulder. "It's a lovely gift, sweetheart. Come with me, I have something for you."

Jess follows her sceptically as she leaved the living room and heads upstairs. He notices, as he passes, several framed pictures of Liz, TJ and Doula posing in front of alpine and autumnal backdrops. In one picture, they are all wearing the same white t-shirt and jeans. In every picture, Liz and TJ are grinning happily and Doula screams.

Liz notices him looking at the pictures. She smiles gently and almost apologetically at him and takes his limp hand. The only picture Jess knows of him and Liz is from when he was a lot older than Doula, maybe about five or six. It is a candid shot taken of his first day of school by another parent and presented to Liz as a parent. Jess remembers the two of them standing apart from the other families who were crying and hugging, neither of them sure what to do. He doesn't remember being sad to see Liz leave, or excited to start school. In the picture, Liz smoothes his hair as he stares sullenly behind her. Neither of them makes eye contact.

"Hurry up," Liz demands, and Jess notices that she is bouncing on her toes in anticipation. They round the corner and Liz throws open a bedroom door. At first, Jess doesn't notice anything.

He asks her, "What's this?"

"Your room!" she announced, arms spread, in a "Ta-dah!" motion.

It is a small, white room, with a little single bed and black curtains. When he takes a step toward the bookshelf, he notices all his books. Some of them he remembers wanting Liz to send to him when he came to Stars Hollow the first time. Others he remembers leaving behind him in Luke's. He picks up a copy of _Don Quixote_ , flips the pages over his fingers. This one is Rory's.

"I took some stuff from Luke, because I didn't have much in storage. He said you'd want them left there, but I wanted to collect all your things and put them together, so that you would have a place, this place, to call home." Her voice wavers a little on the last word, and Jess realises that his silence is worrying her. It is a nice thing to do, nicer than anything Liz has ever done before. He _would_ have preferred them to stay at Luke's, which was more of a home to him than any apartment that he and Liz ever shared, but he appreciates the gesture.

"Thanks," he says sincerely.

Liz beams.

Jess picks up a framed picture of himself on a baby. Liz is holding him, and Luke sits beside them, regarding the baby as if he is about to detonate.

"I don't have any pictures of you since you were twelve," Liz says, and she sounds sad.

"We'll get one at the wedding," Jess says quietly.

Liz cries for at least twenty minutes; Jess gets so pissed off he leaves the room.


	5. xi-xviii

_xi_

 

Rory halted at the door suddenly. She didn't move her head, didn't turn around. Her hands lay limply at her sides, her right hand clutching the straps of her sandals. She heard a second rustle behind her, and sighed.

"Please," she croaked, but her voice failed her any further. She lowered her head and rubbed her brow with a shaking hand.

Her threw her purse to her and turned back into the shadows, twisting up the stairs.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her voice shook with heightening panic, halting him. "I didn't mean for this. I need-"

"What?" he asked sharply, his sudden anger slicing through the room. "What can you possibly need? What has to change?"

She swallowed heavily. "I need time."

"Time?" he barked. "Is that a joke?"

She opened her mouth and he waved his hand to stop her. "You know what, just go. Forget I interrupted your running away. I shouldn't be surprised. It's what you do."

"That's not fair," she protested. "You-"

"I stopped running a long time ago, Rory."

He stormed up the stairs, leaving her standing at the door of the inn, moonlight streaming through the door behind her.

 

_xii_

 

 

April twirled around in her pink dress. One of the straps fell off the top, and she hastened to grab it before half the torso of her dress went with it.

"Hmmm," Lorelai mused. "I think it needs some more work."

April sighed. "I wish I wasn't so flat-chested."

"Don't worry, hun," Lorelai said with a mouthful of pins. "They'll turn up when you least expect it."

She pinned up the hem of the dress and shortened the straps. "Ok, off with that," she pointed at the dress finally, "and be careful not to rip anything or lose any pins."

April dashed off into Rory's room just as Rory was leaving it. Rory handed her mother her pinned dress and flopped down on the couch. "Watch the pin cushion," Lorelai said distractedly, as she poked Sookie with a needle.

Rory shot up almost as fast as she had sat down. She glared at her mother's back and sat down in the armchair instead. She opened _Dead Souls_ as Lorelai worked on April's hem.

"What's on your mind?" Rory heard her say to April, far in the distance as she read about Chichikov working as a customs officer.

A few pages later, and only a few more words has penetrated her little bubble of consciousness. "Baby," April said. "Eleven."

"Behaved," Lorelai said. "Early."

Rory paid no heed to anything until she was hit in the face with a pillow. "Can you hear me now?"

"What?" she asked dumbly.

"April wants to know if she can call you for help the day after the wedding, if needs be. I'll be in Mexico by then." Lorelai made a face.

"Sure," Rory rubbed her head. "Do you need help with your homework?"

"April's practicing for motherhood."

"What?"

"Liz asked me to babysit," April explained.

"You couldn't do a worse job than TJ and Liz, but ok."

"That's what I just said!" Lorelai said exasperatedly.

 

_xiii_

 

 

Rory was late to the rehearsal dinner because she had an interview with Johnson Smith for a position at the _New Haven Register_. Smith had told her in no uncertain terms that he was a busy man who could not meet her until 8pm and even then he only had fifteen minutes to spare.

Now she slipped into the Inn through the back door and changed quickly in the staff bathroom. She wore a little navy dress, uncomfortably tight after a rushed dinner, with strappy sandals that did not feel comfortable even after three minutes. She was glad she had not had to attend the whole rehearsal in this ensemble. Her hair was mussed and windswept, but she did not have a brush, so she settled for raking her hands through it to tame the frizz and introduce some shape.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she stashed her bags in a broom cupboard and made her way through the kitchen to the dining room. That, at least, had been her intention. Instead, she was halted in the kitchen by a familiar presence.

"I should have guessed I would find you here." She leaned against the doorframe and smiled.

Jess was sitting on the counter beside the refrigerator, drinking a beer and looking very much like a man in hiding. He had pulled his feet up on the counter as well and rested his hand on his knee. At the sound of her voice, he smirked a little and turned around to look at her.

"I've lasted-" he checked his watch, "-two hours and forty five minutes. I'd call that a success."

The staff had been ordered home by Lorelai, even though there was lots of cleaning to do and even more to prepare for tomorrow. The kitchen was littered with dirty plates and half-prepared dishes.

"It sounds busy out there," she noted, clearing the counter to pull herself up beside him.

"They are working their way through the alphabet of show tunes. I don't know what this is, but I think I heard _Cabaret_ about twenty minutes ago." As he was talking, he reached his left hand back to open the refrigerator and hand her a cold beer.

She twisted it open and smashed it to her mouth, relishing the cool refreshment after a hectic few hours. She didn't care that her lipstick was being smeared across her face.

"How was your interview?"

"Don't wanna talk about it," she mumbled with her mouth still attached to the beer bottle. The sound echoed strangely through the glass.

He shrugged sympathetically.

"I can't believe my Grandma set this up," she said, partly to change the subject. "I expected something more…"

"Stuffy?"

"I was going to say restrained, but yes, that's the general gist."

Jess leaned towards her and whispered in her ear conspiratorially, "There may have been an incident earlier. Don't believe the rumours, though." His breath tickled the hairs on her neck.

She swallowed a big mouthful of beer. "I don't think I want to know. Hey," she reached over suddenly. "You've got some glitter on your shirt."

Jess sighed and brushed it off. "It's everywhere. I've taken about ten showers but it doesn't budge."

"The trick is to rub your skin with oil," Rory offered, and then regretted saying it when Jess raised an eyebrow.

"The stripper tell you that?"

"I'm doing an interview with him," Rory shook her head a little to divest her brain of any imagery it was playing on a loop in her head and sat up straighter. "He's very interesting. He has a lot of great advice. The glitter one is from going to Miss Patty's plays though. The audience always gets covered in confetti, or glitter or something."

"Sounds like hell," Jess said, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Rory listened to the music in the background, trying to discern who was singing.

"Liz talked to me," Jess said finally. He looked even more uncomfortable than he usually did when talking about his mother. "She wanted me to talk to you about working for Truncheon."

Rory buried her head in her hands. "Oh, God! I told her not to."

"I assumed," he reassured her. "Look, though…if you are really stuck…"

"Jess, stop." She raised her hands awkwardly. "It's unfathomable."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Hear me out. We have this e-zine that comes out once a month. You know, local talent, book reviews, stirring in-depth articles on the state of society. We'd be happy to publish a column, if you wanted. You wouldn't have to come to Philadelphia or anything. You could write whatever you wanted. The pay would be peanuts, but it could be something to add to your portfolio."

"I'll think about it," she promised, although they both knew she would say no.

The door opened and Luke arrived in a flurry of panic. "There you are," he pointed at Rory. "Your mother is looking everywhere for you."

"That's my cue," Rory smiled, and slipped off the counter. She handed the bottle of beer to Luke, knowing her grandmother would have a fit if she saw her. "Is my lipstick smeared?"

Luke and Jess shrugged. "It just looks like your lips," Luke said.

"It's the same colour as my lips, for a natural look."

"I don't understand," the two men said together, looking at her blankly.

"Never mind," she said, "Grandma will tell me straight away if I'm a mess."

She left to join the party, finding her mother quickly among the crowd. Lorelai was sitting on the sofa, smiling contentedly as she watched Kirk and Lulu dancing in the middle of the room with Miss Patty and a reluctant Taylor. She smiled even more brightly when she saw Rory.

"You look happy," Rory said to her as she hugged her, and plopped down beside her.

"I am," Lorelai sighed, and pulled Rory over to her. "I am also a little bit drunk."

"I guessed," Rory grinned. "How was the rehearsal? Did it go off without a hitch?"

"It was one hitch after another," Lorelai laughed. "April tripped over her own feet and TJ had to pick her up off the ground. Then Doula had a tantrum. And of course there was the fact that every man there had a raging hangover."

"Luke looks a little peaky," Rory agreed. "Do you think they enjoyed themselves?"

"They're a lot quieter about their strippers than we are, so it's hard to tell."

"I think it was very tame. Where are your parents?"

"Self-medicating, I think. I may have changed my mind about the type of party I wanted to have five minutes after it started. Emily is not pleased. Hey, how was your interview?"

"Terrible," Rory said. "He was rude and self-important and did not want to be there."

"I'm sorry," Lorelai patted her hand. "Next time."

"Next time," Rory said for the fourth time that month.

 

_xiv_

 

 

"I don't think we need to go through this again, Mom."

"Lorelai, we have to be sure. Walk around the room one more time, Rory."

Rory circled the room one more time, trying to look graceful and not like she was going to go nuts, like Lorelai currently did.

"Stop slouching. Why are you slouching?"

"Because she is tired, Mom. Can't we just agree that the dress fits fine, moves fine, twirls fine, and whatever else you want it to do and we can have dinner?"

Emily looked at her sharply. "Oh, all right. If you don't care, why should I?"

"I have been waiting for you to utter those words my entire life!"

"I'll check the food," Emily said, ignoring her.

When she had left, the two Lorelais collapsed on the sofa in a heap.

"I wish I were dead," Lorelai moaned.

"I wish _I_ were dead," Rory whined.

"Why do we drink? What is the point?"

"Why did you schedule this, or _anything_ , for the day after your bachelorette party?"

"I couldn't think of a good excuse. If she found out about the party, she'd have wanted to come."

"You could have called this morning and invented an emergency."

"Rory," Lorelai raised her head from her hands. "I was unconscious for most of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon. You were the one swanning around and banging doors."

"I banged on _one_ door, accidentally. And I couldn't sleep for more than a half hour at a time. I was way too sick. What's she cooking anyway? It smells like fish."

"Ugh," Lorelai groaned and almost retched.

Divine Intervention struck with her phone suddenly ringing. "Lorelai speaking," she croaked into the phone as Emily re-emerged from the kitchen. "Luke? Luke, slow down. What's wrong? I'll be right there." She snapped her phone shut and jumped to her feet.

"What's happening?" Rory asked.

"I don't know. Luke's in a complete panic. We'd better go. Sorry, Mom."

"But…" Emily tried to protest as she followed them to the hall.

"It was great to see you, Grandma."

"But…"

"We'll see you for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow."

"I…"

"See ya!"

 

_x_ _v_

 

 

"Wild. Wild?"

"Yes. Haven't you been listening?"

"Let me get this straight. You called me in a blind panic, and made me leave dinner with my mother, because you are afraid that your bachelor party will be too wild?"

"Jess has this glint in his eye today. I know what that look means! And I know TJ too; he's probably in on it. Whatever happens, your father is going to have a heart attack at some point. It's not too late to cancel, is it?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Luke?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

_xvi_

"Ok," Reverend Skinner said, "April, just pick yourself up and keep going." His words were lost, however, in the din.

TJ came to April's aid, just as the organ kicked up again.

"No, no, no," Reverend Skinner shouted, "not yet!"

He put his head in his hands and sighed magnificently. "Okay, I think we should start that part again. Yes, Kirk?"

Kirk had raised his hand. Lorelai and Luke both looked at him in shock. "Kirk, what the hell?" Lorelai asked. "You aren't in the bridal party. What are you doing here?"

"I'm the photographer," Kirk said, as if any of this made sense. "I am here to observe." He turned to address the Reverend directly. "I'd like your time for a few moments please, I have some questions on the lighting arrangements."

"Did you do this?" Lorelai asked Luke, who had his head in his hands.

"Oh, God, maybe. I can't remember." He turned to the front pew of the church, where Jess was reading. "JESS," he called over. "DID I SAY THAT KIRK-"

"YEP," Jess shouted back, before he could finish. He did not even raise his eyes from _The Subterraneans._

"Goddamit!" Luke sighed. "Were we supposed to have a real photographer?"

"My mother has someone lined up," Lorelai sighed. She looked over to Kirk, who had brought his own lamps. How had she not noticed him before? She gave up. "Let him do it, why the hell not? It will keep him occupied. He can do the candid shots, or something."

"I think I broke my ankle," April called out. She was still standing in the centre of the aisle.

"It looks real bad," TJ, who had caught her, shouted. "Look at that, I've never seen anything that colour before. Is it more of a blue or purple do you think?"

"It's swelling up pretty bad," Liz agreed, moving over to inspect her foot. The movement disrupted Doula, who had been playing contentedly. She let out an earth-shattering wail, kicking her feet wildly. Around the church, people clapped their hands over their ears.

Luke looked as though he might cry.

 

_xvii_

 

 

It transpired that Doula was a terribly fussy baby, and poor April had a lot of trouble pacifying her. She called Rory an hour and a half into the evening, almost in tears herself. Doula just could not be placated, either through feeding or changing or entertaining. Rory was as much at a loss as to how to deal with her as April was, though she tried to put on a brave face for April's sake. She was already terrified she would drop her on her head or something.

"Who would have thought that anyone would cry this much at missing TJ," Rory tried to joke, as she paced up and down the room with the crying baby in her hands. She was getting tired, shifting the baby from one hip to the other and bobbing up and down in a jerky attempt to rock her.

"I broke her," April cried. She looked a little teary, Rory realised, and it only caused her to panic a little further. This was not how she wanted to spend her hangover. She wanted to be in bed, curled up and listening to Morrissey and relishing in the particular paranoia that only alcohol and doing something ill-advised with your ex-boyfriend could cause.

"Don't be silly," she tried to reassure the teenager, who was sniffling into her sleeve. "This is what babies do. We just need to ride it out."

An hour later, she was getting a little teary herself. She tried to call her mother, who was ostensibly enjoying her honeymoon and did not pick up. She tried to call Liz and TJ, but got their voicemail. They would not be back until eleven, she knew. That was two hours away. And that was a pretty optimistic estimate, because they were always late for everything.

Just when she got to the point where she thought that she could not bear it, the last person she wanted to see opened the front door.

Jess was wearing sweats and no shoes, only socks. He had evidently driven from Luke's without bothering with shoes or anything so sensible. He had the distinct appearance of one who had recently woken up, his hair sticking out at strange angles and sleepiness in his eyes.

"Jess!" April squealed, and hugged him tightly, clearly surprising him. "Please help! She won't stop crying. I've tried everything, I swear I changed her and fed her and sang to her and rocked her and Rory did the same and it's been hours and I'm really sorry, I wanted to do it but I can't, kids hate me-"

"Whoa," Jess raised a hand and April quietened, breathing heavily. "One word at a time please."

He looked to Rory for the first time, who tried to look at anything but him. She rocked the baby awkwardly. Doula responded by raising her voice to the highest volume yet.

Jess winced. "She's fine, she's been like this for a few days."

"She has?" April asked, inappropriately happy to hear that a baby was ill.

"Liz thinks she might be coming down with something. Of course she didn't tell you," he muttered, mostly to himself. "That would be the responsible, sensible thing to do."

He took Doula from Rory without making contact with her, either physical or eye contact, and took the baby to the kitchen. "Is she worse when lying down or sitting?" he asked.

"Uh, lying down, I think," Rory said. If April noticed her flaming cheeks, she did not say.

"Probably an ear infection. She'll be fine, I'll take it from here."

"Aren't you writing?" April asked. "Liz said I wasn't to disturb you."

" _Liz_ isn't allowed to disturb me," Jess said. "But you're ok."

"Shouldn't we get a doctor?" Rory asked, voice high and neck flushed. "Doesn't she need medicine?"

"She doesn't even have a fever," Jess said to April. "I'll give her some baby aspirin and monitor her, but it'll probably clear up on its own."

Already Doula seemed a little calmer, Rory noted with irrational irritation. She was curled up into Jess as he navigated the kitchen with one hand, the other hand propping up her bottom. Though her cheeks were red, she was curling her legs against his side comfortably. Jess found the baby aspirin, and showed April how to give it to her, making the teenager feel ten times more capable. Then, he shooed them away, telling them to go home.

"Don't you need to work?" Rory asked him. He ignored her, banging at the cupboard door. "Jess?"

Rory did not think that she had ever failed to get a reaction from Jess, but it seemed that she had crossed a new line with him. She felt like crying. "Jess," she said, very quietly, but at that moment, Jess turned to her with an impassive expression. He hoisted the baby further up his hip and placed a gentle hand on April's head, a gesture that reminded her of Luke. Then he looked at Rory briefly, eyes blank, and walked out of the room.

"Well," April said when the door clicked behind them. "What the hell did you do?"

 

_xviii_

 

 

"Didn't she look beautiful?" the women were saying, hands clasped and eyes bright.

"It was nice," the men grudgingly agreed.

"Their first dance, swoon!" Miss Patty said.

Jess stuffed a bread roll in his mouth when they looked to him expectantly. He was supposed to comment, he knew. It was expected of him to say something. "Nice food," he said thickly, swallowing in one large gulp and nearly gagging.

"Hear, hear," Jackson said, looking to Sookie, who was preparing to dart out of her seat at any moment to supervise the next course.

Everyone raised their glasses in a toast, and Jess rolled his eyes.


	6. xix-xxii

_xix_

 

"I still don't see why Lorelai had to arrange her honeymoon to arrive home on a Saturday," Emily said. She had been saying it on a loop every time Rory had spoken to her since the wedding, but this particular Friday night, one day before Lorelai returned, she seemed to have become stuck on repeat.

Rory chose to say nothing, mirroring her grandfather in taking another bite of her Waldorf salad. It was always best not to provoke her grandmother when she was in this type of mood.

"It is only one day, and we only see the pair of you once a week. We won't see you next week because you have that interview in New York, and then we have that party with Luke's family, although we will probably only get to see the pair of you for a few minutes before everyone arrives…"

"With who?" Rory asked, regretting it immediately.

"Luke's family, the Renaissance people," Emily sniffed. "We arranged it all at the wedding reception, before I had spoken to them properly. Now I'm not sure if I want them in the house."

"They're nice enough people," Rory argued. "Plus, Luke will be with them."

"Well," Emily sniffed again. "At least I was able to put my foot down about them bringing that terrible hooligan. I won't have him sitting across from me at this table one more time, I'll tell you that!"

"I don't know," Richard spoke up, surprising them both. "I liked him well enough. Although, he needs to work on his symbolism."

Rory dropped her fork to her plate in shock. Thankfully she caught it just in time, before her grandmother, horrified, had realised what she had done.

"You read his book?" Emily asked her husband. Her tone indicated that simply touching the book could cause one to catch a highly infectious disease. "Why?"

"Luke lent it to me, and I confess I rather liked it. It was a bit too….experimental for my taste, I must admit, but there was something about it. I'd like to discuss it further with him, as a matter of fact."

"He won't discuss the book," Rory said glumly. "He's opposed to the concept. Likes the book to speak for itself. What's for dessert?"

"That is a shame. Understandable, in a sense. Clearly he never majored in English Literature, where they teach students to pick apart every word and symbolic motif!" He chuckled to himself, and Emily took the opportunity to regain some ground.

"He didn't major in anything, Richard. He never even finished high school, if I remember correctly. Isn't that right, Rory?"

"I don't want to talk about Jess," Rory mumbled, and Emily beamed in victory.

 

_xx_

 

 

Babette had been in charge of the flowers, and there was no denying that she had done an excellent job. The church looked fresh and beautiful, and they felt as if they had been transported to another world, one filled with love and light and happiness. Liz was delighted, and TJ pronounced it cool in a fruity kind of a way. Jess said nothing, unsurprisingly, but also didn't complain incessantly, and with a son like Jess, that was the best you could hope for sometimes.

Jess at that moment was digging his finger into the side of his neck, pulling his shirt collar away, and giving his trachea room to breathe.

"Stop that," Liz admonished him, dragging his hand away. "It took me ages to starch that collar."

Jess merely grunted in response.

"Why are you so antsy?" TJ asked him. "You're not the one getting hitched here. It's a two minute job!"

"I need a smoke," Jess said, and went outside. He wasn't actually going to smoke, having made a concerted effort to quit in the last few years, but he relished the chance for some fresh air. When he returned five minutes later, hoping the break had given him the patience to deal with Liz and TJ for another while, they were still not ready to start the ceremony.

"You missed Rory, she was just here," Liz said, innocently. She dug her elbow suddenly and quite painfully into Jess' ribcage. "She looked good, didn't she, TJ?"

"Sure," TJ agreed, a little haltingly. He was a little cautious of being too complimentary of any woman, but he also was not going to get into trouble for insulting one either. "Classy broad."

"That's the word!" Liz clicked her fingers happily, as if she had solved a particularly taxing riddle. "She's classy. Graceful."

"You'd know they come from money," TJ said. "Not like us New Yorkers, eh Jess?" He wrapped an arm around Jess' tense shoulders, but Jess quickly shrugged him off and hastened to the top of the church, where Luke appeared to be getting increasingly nervous.

"Way to prove me wrong, kid," TJ said under his breath. "Miss Manners he ain't."

Jess had rushed to Luke at the right moment – he was beginning to panic. "She's not coming," he told Jess as he appeared at his side. His expression and tone were flat and utterly sincere. "She has me standing up here like an idiot in this suit and all of these people, and she's halfway to Bermuda by now."

"First," Jess said, holding up a finger, "she has us both here in these idiotic suits. Second, she is here. She's in the little room in the back, doing whatever women do."

"She'll sneak out the window," Luke said. He was very red in the face, and close to a signature Luke Danes attack. He was really only a few minutes away from pointing and shouting.

Jess knew the signs, and he tried to subtly move Luke so that he did not make eye contact with Taylor, or any other townie who would incite immediate rage. Once upon a time he would have been pulling them over, for the laugh, but he had matured now. At the very least he had decided he only wanted an easy life. Little rebellions took so much effort (He did not know that a young Luke had once made a similar decision, and had for many years now had been seeking a simple and undramatic life. He did not know that he was going down a path that may well one day lead to flannel shirts and sports memorabilia and an aversion to cell phones and shouting at innocent patrons. One can only hope for divine intervention).

"Shut up," Jess said, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Everything is fine."

"They're taking so long!"

"Listen," Jess said, and then inspiration stuck him. "You are closing yourself off to love, right now. You need to keep the communication channels open, and not isolate yourself from the emotional opportunities of the situation."

Luke closed his eyes briefly.

"I have a friend," Jess continued, "Judy. Judy was afraid of committing herself to the moment, and ended up never getting the benefit of living in the present."

"Judy was supposed to be my friend," Luke mumbled.

"Fine, Betty. Whatever. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"

"You're speaking in therapist talk to remind me to enjoy the day?"

"Nope."

"You're trying to recreate the only successful conversations we've ever had?"

Jess shook his head.

"You're trying to freak me out by acting emotional?"

"No," Jess grinned, and stepped to the left. Behind him was Lorelai, at the other end of the aisle, preparing to walk. "I was mostly just trying to distract you."

He slapped Luke on the back familiarly and moved to his designated spot just as the music started up.

"Son of a bitch," Luke said, but that was mostly directly at Lorelai, who looked excellent.

 

_xxi_

 

 

Luke squeezed Lorelai's hand. "You okay?" he whispered conspiratorially to her.

Lorelai smiled at him. "Pretty good, yeah. You?"

"Had worse days," he shrugged. That made her smile brighter.

"Just a few stragglers left, I think," she pointed out.

"Thank God, I need a drink. I sent Jess to get me a beer two hours ago."

"It was no more than twenty minutes ago, you big drama queen. And he has probably made it to Hartford at least by now with a trunk full of my champagne."

"Luke! Lorelai! I'm so happy for you guys! I'm sure you guys can't wait to get on the road for your honeymoon. And of course the wedding night, if you know what I'm saying."

"Babette, there is no-one in this Inn who does not know what you are saying. Next!"

"Luke!" Lorelai admonished. "Babette just gave us a lovely card and a nice chunk of cash, so be a little nicer."

"I have been nice. I've been nice for hours and hours. Who's next in this never-ending queue? Oh, it's you. What's this, a picture of my own diner?"

"It's to hang on your wall, in case you miss the old place."

"Why? I'm not retiring, I-" he caught sight of Lorelai's expression and sighed. "Thanks, Kirk. Hey, Liz! How are ya?"

"Good, big bro. How are you more importantly? You did good up there. I was very proud. And Lorelai, you look stunning! I don't know how you do it, I really don't."

"Thanks," Lorelai blushed prettily. "The dress is doing most of the work though."

"Now I know that isn't true. You look like a queen, darling."

"Thanks, Patty."

"Here. Thirty-five dollar discount on pre-revolutionary war furniture."

"Very kind of you, Mrs. Kim."

"Do they have any pre-revolutionary furniture at her shop? Did they have furniture pre the revolution?"

"That's a stupid question, Lorelai. They were able to build a boat to get here, weren't they? I think they could construct a chair."

"Good point. I think this champagne is going to my head. One place it definitely is not going to is my feet, which are only getting more painful."

"Good, then we can sit down. OKAY, ALL OF YOU LISTEN UP. WE'RE DONE, WE'RE HUNGRY, AND WE'RE STOPPING NOW. Don't make that noise. We're not going to disappear off the face of the earth after today. C'mon!"

"My big, strong husband, shouting down all our admirers. This must be what it's like to be Brad and Angelina!"

Luke grunted in response and steered her towards the entrance to the Inn, where Rory was sitting on the steps.

"Nice day," she commented, leaning back to catch as many of the sun's rays as possible. "I hear there's a wedding on."

"Not a wedding," Luke complained. "A circus freak convention. We need to find a place to sit down. A quiet place," he emphasised.

Rory seemed to understand. "Well, everywhere seems pretty busy, though most people are outside because of the good weather. Why don't you just go up to your suite?"

"Are we allowed go there this early?" Lorelai asked.

"Lorelai, it's your Inn," Luke pointed out. "We can go anywhere we damn please. Let's go take a nap."

"I'll run decoy," Rory offered.

"I knew there was a reason we let you come today." Lorelai patted her daughter on the cheek as she passed her, and Rory smiled.

"I thought I was here to model the Lorelai Gilmore fashion collection for Spring/Summer?"

"That too, and don't forget it."

Rory and April's dresses had turned out very pretty, bright and flowy without being too traditionally big or tacky. No bows or taffeta in sight, to the girls' relief. The fuchsia colour was very pretty as well. It gave both girls a nice flush to the cheeks. Their hair and make-up was similarly modern, with loose glossy curls and soft lipstick.

"I see Bootsy cutting a path towards you," Rory pointed out, not overly fussed.

"Crap," Luke complained and grabbed Lorelai's hand. "We'll be back in an hour, tops."

"Have fun," Rory waved them off. If she had been someone else (her mother, Jess, Miss Patty, TJ) she would have made a dirty joke, but she wasn't. She sat back again, relishing the heat of the sun on her skin. She did not open them again for several minutes, until she felt a chill when a shadow fell over her, blocking the sun. She cracked open an eye, to see Lane with a struggling toddler in her arms.

"I'd give him to you, but he'll only ruin your pretty dress."

"It's not the most practical material," Rory agreed, smoothing down the creases in her silky gown. "Have a seat," she started to say, but Lane had already sat down beside her.

"So…" she said finally. "Who would have thought we would get here some day?"

"They're finally married," Rory sighed, and they both laughed.

"I was remembering we once tried to set them up, when we were about nine, do you remember?"

"Was this when we decided that I wanted Luke to live with us so that I could have waffles whenever I wanted?"

"I think so. After Lorelai tried to master breakfast food, and failed miserably."

"That was a disaster," Rory remembered. "As were our _Parent Trap_ -style interferences. We might have set them back years."

"What _didn't_ set them back?" Lane countered, good-naturedly. "I'm just glad they're happy now. He's a lot more pleasant to work with. And what about you? Tell me about this guy in Boston?"

"Oh, that kind of fizzled out," Rory said, picking at a stray thread on her dress. "He was kind of a dud."

"Bummer. In what way was he a dud?"

"My grandparents would have loved him…"

"I see."

"I hadn't gotten to the point yet!"

"Okay, sorry," Lane said. "Go on."

"Well, he was rich and privileged, I guess like Logan. But he was too…lazy, I suppose. He had even less ambition than Logan, and expected everything to fall in his lap. Plus he was rude to the waiter."

"I hate him," Lane the waitress proclaimed. "Glad you kicked him to the curb."

"Me too," Rory agreed.

"Any other boys?"

"No," Rory sighed.

Steve grabbed a lock of her hair and pulled it painfully. She tried to extricate him politely.

"I don't know if you know, but Jess is back in town." Lane was grinning, knowing full well he had been staying at her house for several days.

"I'm aware."

"We had a long chat about Neil Young. He seems…more pleasant these days. Like he's more comfortable in himself, or something. Do you know what I mean?"

"I do," Rory agreed. She declined to elaborate further, to Lane's obvious irritation.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Don't act so clueless, Gilmore. Your ex-boyfriend is in town, all mature and cool-headed, and sleeping on your couch. You must have some strong feelings about that."

"I have very strong feelings," Rory agreed. "I just don't quite know what they are. It's all very confusing."

"Confused counts as a feeling," Lane pointed out. "I'll accept it as an answer for now."

Rory gave Steve her keys to play with. He responded by putting her keychain in his mouth.

"Why did you argue about Neil Young?"

"It wasn't an argument," Lane huffed. "Much. It was more about his stock. Like how all of those legends from the '60s and '70s are still producing better music than the majority of popular music today."

"Examples, please," Rory said, tickling Steve's chin to get him to laugh and release her keys.

"Oh, Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, even Dolly Parton."

"I don't think that's an indictment on today's popular culture," Rory reasoned. "They were all legends in their own time, too."

Lane nodded, shifting Steve slightly, causing him to drop the keys. Rory snatched them up quickly.

"That's what I said."

"When did you even get the chance to talk about this? We've been so busy with wedding planning."

"He writes in Luke's old apartment in the mornings. I drop up there every few hours and refill his coffee."

"I didn't even realise," Rory frowned.

"He's pretty intense about it. He let me have a look at some of his new stuff a few days ago, though. Looks pretty cool."

"He did?" A bust of jealousy shot through Rory. It made her feel disgusted at herself.

"He was a bit stuck, wanted a second opinion," Lane shrugged, as it was nothing. "I gave him a few impressions, he said it was helpful. Maybe he'll put my name in the acknowledgements!" She brightened up only to become worried. "Zack wouldn't like me being someone else's muse. He probably wouldn't put me in the acknowledgements anyway, I'm sure writers get loads of people to look over their work, right? Rory?"

"Right," Rory said distantly, staring into the middle distance.

Lane frowned, unsure what she said to upset Rory. "Do you want a drink? My mother will take the kids soon, so I'm free for the night."

"Sure," Rory answered, still deep in thought.

"Right," Lane said, awkwardly. "I'll get us some wine then."

She stood up and pulled Steve to her hip. "Lots of wine," Lane muttered to herself.

 

_xxii_

 

 

"Rory? What are you doing here?" Paris' tone would sound harsh to someone who didn't know her, but Rory knew that Paris was not upset. She was leaning against the door frame, only her face peeking out the door. Rory had heard at least five locks being turned before the door had opened at all.

"Nice to see you too, Paris. I'm here to visit you!"

"It's customary to call first."

"I brought Chinese food."

Paris regarded her carefully, then shut the door. Rory heard the chain lock being unfastened, and finally Paris opened the door fully and ushered her in.

"I haven't seen you in nearly a year," Paris said. If it were Lane, they would have hugged, but that wasn't Paris' way.

"We talk all the time," Rory pointed out, making herself comfortable and opening the takeout boxes.

"I could have been working," Paris pointed out. "How did you know I would be home?"

"I took a chance."

"If I wasn't here, you would have had a table of Chinese food to go to waste."

"It wouldn't be the most I've ever eaten in one day," Rory said innocently. "How's Doyle?"

"Fine," Paris sighed, her arms still crossed. "He's not happy about the hours I'm working, but that's what interns have to do. I'll never be a good doctor if I only work 9-5."

"I'm sure he's just adjusting. What should we watch?"

Paris narrowed her eyes at Rory, taking in her wide eyes, bright smile, and awkward fidgeting.

"BBC America has Blackadder repeats all day," Paris relented, sitting down beside Rory finally. "Is that lemon chicken?"

Rory grinned and passed her the food and the remote.

A few hours later, they hadn't moved far. They had talked about the wedding, and Rory's career prospects, and Paris' Attending, who she hated.

Paris wasn't stupid though, and she knew Rory as well as Rory knew her, after so many years together.

"Well, Gilmore, spit it out," Paris said finally, and quite unexpectedly.

"My malomar?" Rory asked, mouth full.

"That's disgusting. I meant that I know you're hiding something. You're all blinky."

"No, I'm not."

"Seven blinks in one sentence, that's gotta be a record."

"Oh, fine," Rory relented, and set aside her candy. "I did something stupid."

"Did you steal another boat?"

"No!" she sighed. "I slept with Jess."

"Jess? Your ex-boyfriend? That Jess?"

"Yes, that Jess!" Rory rolled her eyes. "At the wedding."

"Are you back together?"

"No. I realised how stupid it was and tried to leave but he caught me sneaking out. He's hardly said a word to me since."

"So it's like Philadelphia all over again," Paris surmised, and Rory squirmed in her seat. "I only have one question: why did you do it?"

"Because…I don't know really!" Rory burst out. "Because he was there, and he was grown up and mature but still Jess, and he had a suit on and we were laughing and…"

"Rory, why did you do it?"

"I wanted to."

"There we go," Paris said, sitting back happily. "Now we're getting to it. You wanted to, so you did. It's not a crime."

"I hurt him," Rory sighed. "And I think I hurt myself too. He's gone back to Philadelphia and I don't know what to do."

"Do what you want to do," Paris shrugged. "Do you want to get back together?"

"I keep going back to my ex-boyfriends," Rory cried. "I can't keep being that girl."

"Oh, forget about them. Forget about everyone. Do you want to be with Jess?"

"I don't know. I really don't. Maybe." She sighed heavily, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I don't know if we will ever be able to get over everything that has happened between us."

"That's not something I can help you with," Paris told her. "That's between the two of you. But you know what I say: if you want something, go and get it."

"Thanks, Paris," Rory sniffled, drying her face with her sleeve. "I haven't told anyone yet, even my Mom. I needed someone non-judgemental and non-biased."

"I might be a little biased," Paris admitted. "He was the only one of your boyfriends I could stand to have a conversation with for more than a few minutes. Even if his book was hyperbolic beatnik idealism. Plus you're not seeing anyone better at the moment, and he beats that fool Doyle set you up with hands down."

"Can I stay?" Rory asked, still a little tearstained. "I was planning to drive home tonight but…"

"Okay, but I'm working at 5 so you'll be on the road early."


	7. xxiii-xxxi

_xxiii_

Doula did not like the Gilmore residence in Hartford. Not one little bit, it seemed.

"I'm sure she will calm down soon," Liz apologised, rocking the baby back and forth. Though she was apologetic, she did not seem particularly embarrassed. Richard and Emily, on the other hand, looked deeply uncomfortable. Emily's smile had faltered a little in the beginning, but now it was stapled on. The house could have fallen down on their heads and she would still be wearing that fixed, manic smile.

"Is she still sick?" Lorelai clucked. "Poor dear."

"Yeah, it's a bad ear infection this time. We think it's related to her teething. Every time we think it's gone, it pops up again. Been nearly two weeks now. I gotta tell ya, it's really getting in the way of our tour," TJ told her.

"You're on tour?" Emily asked. "How nice." Her eye twitched a little, in the corner.

"It's great," Liz said. Her voice was wobbling from rocking the baby. "We're planning to join the whole tour of the eastern seaboard when this one's a little bigger."

Rory and Lorelai exchanged a pained glance. They hadn't even sat down for dinner yet, and Doula was still screaming.

"Should we get her some baby aspirin?" Rory offered.

"Nah, she's had her medicine from the doc. They should kick in soon. Couple hours at the most."

At this revelation, everyone in the room shared a pained glance.

"Don't mind her," Liz pleaded, still smiling. "She'll calm down soon."

"Liz," Luke sighed. "She probably needs some sleep."

"Oh, but we just got here," Liz pouted. "And we never get to go out anymore."

Luke sighed again and rubbed his forehead until inspiration struck him. "Call Jess, then. He's staying with you, isn't he?"

"He is?" Rory asked.

"If you call scowling and sulking staying with us, then yes," TJ said. "For another night anyway."

"It's an adjustment to him," Liz placated TJ. "I raised him to be very independent."

Luke scoffed and then tried to hide it with a weak cough.

"It's not a bad idea," TJ agreed. "He's pretty good with her."

"He's great with her," Liz corrected, addressing the room.

"He hasn't dropped her on her head, anyway," TJ offered.

"Okay, I'll make the call," Liz said, handing Doula to Lorelai. "And then we _partay_!"

"So Lorelai, Luke. Tell us about the honeymoon," Emily instructed as Liz left the room. "Did you like Mexico?"

"Who doesn't like Mexico?" Lorelai countered. "It was amazing. I spent two whole weeks lying on a deckchair on the beach, drinking cocktails." She sighed happily. "We even tried surfing and snorkelling, although I should have known better. Gilmores are not built for water sports."

Rory shook her head sadly in agreement.

"How nice," Emily said, and looked to Luke expectantly.

"Uh, it was great," Luke said awkwardly. "Like Lorelai said, lots of sea and sand and umbrellas in your drinks. The diner didn't burn down while we were gone, or the Inn, so that's a plus."

"Fascinating," Emily said emotionlessly. "Rory, how are things with you? Any luck on the job front?"

Rory shook her head, embarrassed by the attention of the room while they discussed her failures. "I have a few potential contacts, but nothing solid yet."

"Where?"

"Everywhere," Rory shrugged. "New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, Connecticut. Anywhere on the east coast would be great at the moment."

"I'm sure you'll find something soon," Lorelai said, patting Rory's hand with one hand and returning Doula to Liz with the other.

Doula was still red, still feverish, still pitifully helpless-looking. Her big watery eyes regarded Rory with some interest, but it was only for a few moments before her face crumpled into tears again.

"It's the economy," TJ pointed out helpfully. "You probably shouldn't have gone into a dying industry."

There was a long beat of horrible silence.

"Time for salad!" Emily clapped her hands together. Her eye was twitching again.

Jess arrived just as Gretel served the main course. The ringing of the doorbell caused her to go into quite a tizzy, as she was holding several dishes in her hands at the same time.

"Oh good God, woman! I'll get the door myself," Emily snapped, rising and leaving the room while Gretel attempted to gain some composure.

Emily opened the door and regarded the man in front of her. "Hello," she said coldly.

"Hey," he said.

She waited for him to say anything further. When it became apparent that he wouldn't, she sighed.

"Come on in, then," she opened the door fully.

There were people in this world who, having gotten a phone call that they would shortly be summoned to the Gilmore household, would attempt to straighten themselves up a little. Run a comb through their hair, maybe change. Jess was not one of those people.

He followed her through to the dining room, where the dinner party was going on. Doula was whimpering in her mother's arms.

"Give her here," Jess said crossly.

"Hey, kid!" Liz said happily, wrapping her arms around her son in an awkward embrace. "Thanks for coming."

"You're really doing us a solid," TJ chimed in.

"Now I've already given her the drops and the antibiotics, it should kick in soon. She'll need another dose in about two hours."

"Fine," Jess said. He looked around the room, where everyone sat eating their duck. He raised an eyebrow at Luke, who looked even less comfortable than usual. "See ya."

He left, Doula in hand, and they settled back to dinner.

Rory stood up suddenly, causing the table to shake.

"Maybe I should…help him…" she said lamely, and left the table.

"Yikes," Lorelai said, to nobody in particular. Catching herself, she picked up her fork. "She, uh…really likes that baby."

"Rory is a very loving person," Richard agreed, piping up for the first time that evening. "She will make a fantastic mother."

"Yeah," Lorelai said, stuffing a forkful of potatoes into her mouth. "I should check on them."

She found Jess strapping Doula into her car seat. He was resolutely ignoring Rory, who was trying to get him to talk to her.

"Jess, please," she begged.

Jess slammed the back door shut and got into the front seat.

"Jess!"

"WHAT?" he snapped suddenly, surprising both Rory and Lorelai.

"I just…want to talk to you," Rory faltered.

"Well I don't want to talk to you. Not so nice when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?"

He shut the door, started the engine, and swung out of the driveway before Lorelai had time to get to Rory.

"Oh, honey," Lorelai soothed her, wrapping her arms around her daughter. "What happened while I was gone?"

Rory burst out crying

"Oh, this looks familiar." They turned around, to see Emily standing in the doorway. "Some people never change, I suppose. Come on, your dinner is getting cold."

She turned and walked back into the house, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

Rory turned to Lorelai. "Come on, then," she said. She smiled bravely. The effect was somewhat tempered by the fact that she was still crying, and forced to take big gulps of air.

"I hear they eat duck cold on the continent," Lorelai said, halting Rory's entrance. "Let's wait a minute. And when we get home, we're eating every bite of chocolate in Stars Hollow and we're catching up!"

 

_x_ _xiv_

 

 

"So you're not mad?" Rory asked, taking another twizzler.

"It's not my job to be mad, hun," Lorelai said. "You're a grown woman. I'm sure Emily and Richard would have plenty to say about it though."

"That's hardly my biggest obstacle," Rory sighed. "He hates me."

"Of course he doesn't hate you. He's hurt."

"You don't understand, Mom," Rory said. "He's never been like this before. He usually calls me out on things he thinks are unfair, or if he thinks I'm out of line. I've had him shout at me before, but I've never had him give me the cold shoulder. I think he's done."

"I don't believe that," Lorelai told her. "I saw the two of you at the wedding. Nobody could doubt that he cares about you, as strange as it is for me to admit."

"What do I do?" Rory's eyes glittered with tears. "How do I fix this?"

Lorelai shook her head. "I don't know, sweetheart. Normally I'd say call him or something, but you know him better than I do."

"I'm completely lost right now," Rory admitted. "I'm terrified."

Lorelai patted her hand gently. "That's usually a sign you are doing the right thing."

 

_xxv_

 

 

Jess had the rings ready, to Luke's surprise. He didn't even make a joke about pawning them.

When the time came, his fingers trembled a little but he managed to get the ring on her finger quickly enough. Not quickly enough, in his opinion. It should have happened years ago. But now she was wearing it, and he was wearing his ring, and everything was right in the world.

Lorelai smiled at him, a big bright teary smile that made him want to smile as brightly.

"I do," she said, but it sounded like it was underwater because he couldn't quite believe it was happening.

"I do," he said back, slowly, seriously.

Rory was crying, he could see her standing behind Lorelai. Sookie had been crying since breakfast.

Even Emily was dabbing her eyes gently with a tissue, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

Luke was not crying, but he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was Jess, who was muttering sly comments about the ceremony throughout under his breath. Perhaps it was because he simply was not a man who cried.

But this was the closest he had ever come, that was for sure.

They played the music, a nice jazzy piece that Luke had heard before but could not place. Kirk stepped in front of them, blinding them with an industrial size flash.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Revered Skinner called, waving his hands. "I didn't pronounce them yet!"

The music abruptly halted, and after four more pictures, Kirk was ushered to his seat.

Reverend Skinner took a deep, calming breath.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

 

_xxvi_

 

 

"I feel like it's time I made up my mind."

"About what, hun?" Lorelai asked as she leaned over to grab a handful of popcorn.

"What I want to do with my life."

"You could be a newsreader, like Ron Burgundy here. Or a lion tamer! I've always wanted to say I know a lion tamer."

"Mom," Rory said seriously. Lorelai realised the sincerity in her expression.

She quickly paused the movie.

"What do you mean, Rory? You're going to be a journalist."

"Of course," Rory said, and Lorelai let out a sigh of relief. "But what kind of journalist? Should I cover politics in front of a camera in the Middle East, or write book reviews for the New York Times?"

"Honey, you don't need to sort all of that out yet."

Rory arched an eyebrow. "Mom, I'm nearly twenty four."

Lorelai fought the urge to laugh. "Why not do all of those things? Try out something for a while, see if you like it. If you do, keep doing it. If not, do something else."

Rory studied her ice cream thoughtfully. Finally, she told Lorelai: "I've never not had a plan before. Except for when I dropped out."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I rarely have plans. I find life works itself out along the way." She wrapped an arm around her daughter comfortingly. "So what's step one? What's tickling your fancy right now?"

Rory shrugged and raised another spoonful of ice cream to her lips. She paused, grabbed some popcorn, and stuffed both in her mouth at the same time.

"Sleep on it, you might think of something in the morning." She stood up to stretch. "I'm going up to meditate on those red shoes we saw this afternoon. You think if I sleep on it will I wake up magically able to afford them?"

"It's worth a try."

"Yeah. Well, good night."

"Night, Mom."

Lorelai began to climb the stairs, but she did so slowly, because she had a feeling that-

"Mom?"

There it was.

Lorelai turned around. "Yes?"

"Um…I was thinking…."

"Go on," Lorelai encouraged her.

"Well, you see, Jess works in a publishing house, but it's also a bookshop, and they also have this online magazine that they send out once a month, and sometimes more often if they can, and he asked me if I wanted to submit some content, and I said no, but since then I've been thinking that maybe I should, what do you think?"

"First of all, I think you should take a breath. Second of all, I think it's a bad idea to work with someone you have feelings for." Seeing the obvious disappointment on her daughter's face, she amended her original statement. "But sometimes it can work, especially when it's only for a little while."

"It would totally be temporary. But it would get me back on my feet, I think. I might have a little more freedom to find out what I like doing."

"Well, we already know one thing you like doing," Lorelai said wickedly. "Jess!"

"Mom!" Rory blushed.

"Ha, you're blushing, that's means it's true."

"Mom!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going to bed. I love you." She darted up the stairs, barely dodging the clown cushion Rory threw at her.

 

_xxvii_

 

 

It was really a really crappy day. Philadelphia was dark and windy, buffeted by sheets of rain. The bookshop was busier than usual, with pedestrians seeking cover, and Jess was hiding in the back office, at his overflowing desk. Despite the traffic, they weren't very busy. Most people were browsing, or listening to a shockingly bad mandolin concert being held amongst the Classic Lit shelves.

Matthew appeared at the door to the office. "Hey, there."

Jess ignored him, as he had been doing all day.

"Jess, don't be like that," Matt sighed. "You can hardly hear them from here."

"I can hear enough," he said through gritted teeth.

"It's not my fault, Jess. This is what happens when you won't let me audition acts before booking them."

"That's because you would never do anything else and I would never get anything accomplished."

"Speaking of, how is Cassandra's stuff looking?" he nodded towards the stack of poems in Jess' hands which he had been editing for the past two hours.

"Useless, she's back with the boyfriend." Jess sighed. "It's a bunch of sappy crap, at least for now."

"Shame, she could have been the Alanis Morissette of poetry."

"I was only a couple of poems short of an anthology, too."

Jess swore under his breath.

"Is it unethical to tell her he was sleeping with that waitress from the cafe on the corner while they were broken up?"

"Don't even think about it. Maybe you could do like Neruda, but backwards? Twenty Songs of Despair and a Love Song?"

Jess scratched his chin. "It's an option."

"Oh, I totally forgot why I came in to you," Matt slapped himself in his forehead. "Your aunt is waiting for you in the shop."

Satisfied, he left to turn down the volume on the mandolin amps.

"Matt, what? I don't have an aunt…" Jess followed him

At the back of the small crowd for the performance was a tall woman with dark hair. Jess had enough time to swear viciously under his breath before she turned around.

"Lorelai," he greeted her, almost managing to hide his horror.

"This is the dorkiest thing I've ever seen," Lorelai enthused. "I can't believe it. I thought you were cool, man."

"What are you doing here?"

"We're visiting you. Luke's parking the truck, he's been trying to find parking for a good half an hour; it's hilarious. So, I decided to grab a coffee and then come here."

"You're all wet," he pointed out.

"It's raining, Sherlock. Anyway, it's mostly my jacket." She took a sip of her coffee, and Jess realised that she was nervous. "Plus, I wanted to talk to you before Luke comes, if that's ok?"

"Uh, yeah. Talk."

"First of all, I want to say that this is a Rory-free topic. Or at least, a Rory-and-Jess-free topic. I'm here as Luke's wife. You see, I was thinking..." She took another nervous gulp of her coffee. "Remember at the wedding, how everyone kept saying in the speeches about how much of a father-figure Luke has been to Rory? I kept thinking that I should have a similar relationship, or any relationship at all, with Luke's family. I've been trying with April and her Mom, and well, you and I have never gotten on very well…"

"I'm not Luke's kid, though. You don't have to-"

"You might as well be! He talks about you all the time, about how proud he is of you. He sells copies of your book in the diner, which totally goes against his soliciting policies. He didn't need to have a Best Man, Jess! He wanted you up there with him."

"So what, we become best friends? Gossip about reality television and send each other postcards when we go on vacation?"

"No. For God's sake, Jess! I just don't want us to be at each other's throats."

"But you hate me," Jess pointed out, still confused.

"I don't hate anyone. True, I don't like you very much, but we're family now. And in my experience, my family is 50% people I like and 50% people I'm 50/50 about."

Jess frowned, trying to work that out. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine, let's do it."

"Awesome," Lorelai beamed.

"We might never be friends," Jess said.

"The odds are probably worse than that," Lorelai agreed. "But it won't be because we never tried."

They shook on it.

"You know, in another life I could have been on your side from the beginning. If you didn't date my daughter and steal my beer, I mean."

"I guessed what you meant. More coffee?"

"You have coffee here? I nearly got pneumonia for nothing?"

"It's for staff only. Come on."

Lorelai followed him to a small station behind the cash registers while he filled the kettle.

"I'm serious," Lorelai said as they waited for the kettle to boil. "What you have done here is pretty impressive. I really respect that you've managed to do all this by yourself. I'm usually the one on the side of the underdog."

"Except when they date your daughter."

"Pretty much. I read your book, too."

"Really?" Jess asked suspiciously

"Luke gave it to me. He also gave copy of it to my Dad. He really liked it, to my mother's eternal dismay."

"What about you?" Jess asked, as he poured her coffee and added milk.

"Oh, my mother's dismay makes me happier than my father's delight."

"No, I mean what did you think of the book?"

"I liked it too. I thought it was pretty cool."

"Cool?"

"Yeah. My dad and Rory used lots of big fancy college words to analyse and critique it, but all I can say is that I thought it was cool."

"I'll take that over a critical reading any day," Jess said, and handed her a cup.

"This place is a hellhole!"

"Luke!" Lorelai exclaimed, her hand jumping to her heart. "You're drenched!"

"I had to park a mile away, and pay an exorbitant price to do so. Then I had to walk here, in a goddamn hurricane!"

"Welcome to the big city," Jess clapped him on the back.

"I hate this," Luke grumbled.

"Nice to see you too, Uncle Luke. Glad you could come."

"Still a wiseass, I see."

"Come on, I'll bring you upstairs. You know where the shower is, I'll get some dry clothes. Lorelai, come on and I'll give you the tour."

"Okay, but no t-shirts with butts on them." Luke sighed loudly as he trudged upstairs, leaving puddles of water behind him.

_xxviii_

"You're supposed to dance, Jess. You're the best man."

"I'm supposed to do a lot of things as best man that I'm not doing," Jess told his mother. "Dancing is pretty high on my list of things I don't want to do."

"They look happy though, don't they?" Liz sighed as she watched Luke and Lorelai dancing. They first danced together at my wedding, did you know that?"

"I was there, remember?"

"In a way, I kind of brought them together."

"Ah jeez, Liz. I'm getting another beer."

"Drink about ten more beers, it might make you a bit more sociable."

 

_xxix_

 

 

There are a few ways to deal with close proximity to your ex. Most of them involve maintaining at least a four-foot distance at all times.

Some of them involve copious drinking. It's a risky strategy, but it's a classic. Unbeknownst to each other, Rory and Jess were hoovering up half of the alcohol available at the Inn. By the time Richard and Emily retired to bed, Rory was laughing louder than anyone else at the wedding.

"Jess, come sit with us," she beckoned him as he passed their table. He sat, a double whiskey in hand. "Doyle was just trying to argue that a newspaper can survive without being online in this day and age."

Jess shook hands with Doyle. "Hey, man. I agree."

Rory's jaw dropped in outrage.

"Oh come on," Paris snorted. "Ad revenue is probably _the_ main source of income for news outlets these days. And all advertising is online."

"I'm not saying it's a sound strategy, but I think you can survive," Jess argued.

"You're saying that, but your company prints an online-exclusive 'zine," Rory argued.

"Because you need to be established," Jess insisted. "Online is the best vehicle for an obscure publication with limited cash flow and readership. But if we were the Financial Times..."

"News outlets need to be able to provide information in real-time now. Nobody wants to read yesterday's news."

"The New Yorker then," Doyle offered. "Give me one reason that _needs_ to be online."

"Sorry to interrupt, but Doyle and Paris, your cab is here."

"We better get our coats," Doyle said, and stood up. Thanks again for having us. And congratulations."

"Thanks, Doyle," Lorelai said. Paris barrelled into her, squeezing her tightly. 'Oh, and you too, Paris."

"Bye Rory, bye Jess," Paris said, as they all shook hands and hugged until the cab driver began to get impatient and started beeping the horn.

"Bye!" Rory called after them.

She looked to Jess, who was the last person left with her. She downed her glass.

"More wine?" he asked, quickly polishing off his own drink.

"Please," she said, wiping her mouth with some embarrassment.

 

_xxx_

 

 

Luke and Lorelai left after dinner, and Jess tidied the apartment as a way of distracting himself. The day had been weird as hell. Thankfully, the apartment needed plenty of care, so he killed a good hour cleaning the oven and mopping floors and completing other mindless tasks.

It was beginning to get dark when he left the house, trash bags in hand. There was a dumpster behind a bar down the road in which he liked to dump his trash, if only to provide him with a small sense of rebellion. Unfortunately, the rain was still falling heavily, and it was a miserable trip. He dumped the trash and rushed back to Truncheon, but he was stopped in his tracks by a bizarre sight in the doorstep of an abandoned building on the way.

"Rory?" has asked, before he could help himself.

Rory Gilmore's eyes were wide as saucers. She looked like a child who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. She then tried very unconvincingly to fake an air of nonchalance. "Oh, hey Jess. Fancy seeing you here."

"Rory, what are you doing here?" he asked her, moving under the porch to get out of the rain.

"I..uh… have a job interview."

Jess looked her up and down. She was wearing a Velvet Underground t-shirt, jeans, and Minnie Mouse converse.

"Huh."

"Yep. So I was just… on my way back to my car, before I had to take cover… from the rain."

"Rory," he started, and then paused, not sure where to begin. "You're sopping wet."

"This? It's no big deal." The rain had plastered her hair to her face. It seemed to make her eyes stand out even more than usual. Jess was reminded of the time she had gotten the sprinkler stuck, and they had both been tried to have a conversation while soaked to the bone. She was blinking like crazy.

"So…" she started, still feigning calm. "How have you been?"

"Rory, I'm not an idiot!" he bit out, rubbing his forehead with his left hand in agitation. "Why are you here?"

She bit her lip awkwardly for a minute before confessing. "I saw my Mom and Luke inside when I went to knock on the door. I guess I panicked," she shrugged.

"They're gone now," he said, for lack of anything else to say.

She nodded.

"That still doesn't explain why you're here," he pointed out, annoyed at her for forcing him to talk to her when he really didn't want to talk.

She bit her lip and looked down to the ground. "I'm here to ask you for another chance."

"Sorry?" Jess spluttered.

"Look, I know you're mad at me. You should be. What I did was horrible. But, I panicked. I'm really good at telling myself what I think I need to hear, Jess. My lack of self-awareness is pretty astounding, I've been told by other people. But I always come around in the end….and, so, here I am."

"I don't know, Rory," Jess said honestly. "I think we're kidding ourselves. Why would this be any different than before?"

"Because this the last time," she told him. "I want to do this, I want to be with you, and if we can do it, I know it'll be amazing. And if it doesn't, at least we can say we tried."

Jess studied her for a long time. Long enough that she became bashful, and looked down at the ground.

Finally, he held out a hand to her, which she tentatively grasped.

"Come on, let's see if Luke left any hot water. You're shivering."

"What does that mean?" she asked him, trailing behind him, hands clasped with his.

"It means we get you dry, and warm, and then we figure where we go from there."

He squeezed her hand, and she beamed. "Oh. Okay, then."

 

_xxxi_

 

 

"Why are you smiling so much?" Jess asked her.

"I've never been the last person at a party before," she told him. It was true, the staff were starting to clean up around them. One waiter was having a smoke behind the stables while he waited for the pair to hurry the hell up so he could sweep the floor.

"Well aren't you the crazy rebel these days, Gilmore," he teased.

She beamed at him, eyes sparking and a little gin-clouded. He gulped nervously, and took another swig of whiskey.

"Come on," he stood up, pulling her up with him. "Let them clean up before they kill us."

"Thanks, Jerry," Rory told the bartender, who was clearing the table beside them. "You were always my favourite."

"There's no need to flirt with him anymore," Jess said, as they stepped out onto the grass. Rory threw her shoes off and relished the feel of the cool grass on her bare feet. "He already gave you every drink you could think of."

"I liked the blue one," she giggled. She plopped down on the grass.

"The blue one was the worst." Jess shuddered. He nearly lost his balance as she reached up to him and pulled him down to her. He managed to catch himself just in time, but he spilled a little of his drink on her lap.

"Sorry," he said, staring at her lap for far too long. There was a cool breeze rustling the material of her dress very slightly, making it stick to her skin. Jess cleared his throat uncomfortably, realising that she hadn't responded.

He looked up, and saw that her face was very close to him. The breeze was rustling her hair as well. He wanted to touch it. Her eyes were wide and bright, and he stopped thinking about her hair.

"Sometimes you look at me like you want to eat me alive," she said softly.

"Sometimes I do," he admitted.

"Kiss me," she ordered, and he obliged.

They sat there for a lifetime, as he kissed her over and over again.

When the breeze picked up and she began to shiver, she told him: "Let's go upstairs."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She clasped the front of his shirt with her small hands. He kissed her hairline.

"Absolutely."

He pulled her up and they tumbled up the stairs, hands clasped.

 

 

_-End-_

_That was fun to write. I almost didn't want it to end!_

_Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are really appreciated :)_


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